_Sheer Lane, March 17._
Upon my coming home last night, I found a very handsome present of wine left for me, as a taste of 216 hogsheads which are to be put to sale at 20 a hogshead, at Garraway"s Coffee-house in Exchange Alley, on the 22nd instant, at three in the afternoon, and to be tasted in Major Long"s vaults from the 20th instant till the time of sale.[162] This having been sent to me with a desire that I would give my judgment upon it, I immediately impanelled a jury of men of nice palates and strong heads, who being all of them very scrupulous, and unwilling to proceed rashly in a matter of so great importance, refused to bring in their verdict till three in the morning; at which time the foreman p.r.o.nounced, as well as he was able, "Extra--a--ordinary French claret." For my own part, as I love to consult my pillow in all points of moment, I slept upon it before I would give my sentence, and this morning confirmed the verdict.
Having mentioned this tribute of wine, I must give notice to my correspondents for the future, who shall apply to me on this occasion, that as I shall decide nothing unadvisedly in matters of this nature, I cannot pretend to give judgment of a right good liquor, without examining at least three dozen bottles of it. I must at the same time do myself the justice to let the world know, that I have resisted great temptations in this kind; as it is well known to a butcher in Clare Market, who endeavoured to corrupt me with a dozen and a half of marrow-bones. I had likewise a bribe sent me by a fishmonger, consisting of a collar of brawn, and a joll of salmon; but not finding them excellent in their kinds, I had the integrity to eat them both up, without speaking one word of them. However, for the future, I shall have an eye to the diet of this great city, and will recommend the best and most wholesome food to them, if I receive these proper and respectful notices from the sellers, that it may not be said hereafter, my readers were better taught than fed.
[Footnote 159: "Iliad," xiv. 157.]
[Footnote 160: Lotus is the name of a native genus akin to the trefoil and clovers. It is best known as the supposed opium-like food of a people on the sh.o.r.es of the Mediterranean, visited by Ulysses,--Tennyson"s "mild-eyed melancholy lotos-eaters," living in a land where all things always seemed the same.]
[Footnote 161: The preceding portion of this paper was by Addison (Tickell)]
[Footnote 162: This sale was advertised in No. 145.]
No. 148. [ADDISON.
From _Sat.u.r.day, March 18_, to _Tuesday, March 21, 1709-10_.
----Gustus elementa per omnia quaerunt, Nunquam animo pretiis obstantibus.
JUV., Sat. xi. 14.
_From my own Apartment, March 20._
Having intimated in my last paper, that I design to take under my inspection the diet of this great city, I shall begin with a very earnest and serious exhortation to all my well-disposed readers, that they would return to the food of their forefathers, and reconcile themselves to beef and mutton. This was the diet which bred that hardy race of mortals who won the fields of Cressy and Agincourt. I need not go up so high as the history of Guy Earl of Warwick, who is well known to have eaten up a dun cow of his own killing.[163] The renowned King Arthur is generally looked upon as the first who ever sat down to a whole roasted ox (which was certainly the best way to preserve the gravy), and it is further added, that he and his knights sat about it at his Round Table, and usually consumed it to the very bones before they would enter upon any debate of moment. The Black Prince was a professed lover of the brisket; not to mention the history of the sirloin, or the inst.i.tution of the Order of Beef-eaters, which are all so many evident and undeniable marks of the great respect which our warlike predecessors have paid to this excellent food. The tables of the ancient gentry of this nation were covered thrice a day with hot roast beef; and I am credibly informed, by an antiquary who has searched the registers in which the bills of fare of the Court are recorded, that instead of tea and bread and b.u.t.ter, which have prevailed of late years, the maids of honour in Queen Elizabeth"s time were allowed three rumps of beef for their breakfast. Mutton has likewise been in great repute among our valiant countrymen, but was formerly observed to be the food rather of men of nice and delicate appet.i.tes, than those of strong and robust const.i.tutions. For which reason, even to this day, we use the word "sheep-biter" as a term of reproach, as we do "beef-eater" in a respectful and honourable sense. As for the flesh of lamb, veal, chicken, and other animals under age, they were the invention of sickly and degenerate palates, according to that wholesome remark of Daniel the historian,[164] who takes notice, that in all taxes upon provisions, during the reigns of several of our kings, there is nothing mentioned besides the flesh of such fowl and cattle as were arrived at their full growth, and were mature for slaughter. The common people of this kingdom do still keep up the taste of their ancestors; and it is to this that we in a great measure owe the unparalleled victories that have been gained in this reign: for, I would desire my reader to consider, what work our countrymen would have made at Blenheim and Ramillies, if they had been fed with frica.s.sees and ragouts.
For this reason, we at present see the florid complexion, the strong limb, and the hale const.i.tution, are to be found chiefly among the meaner sort of people, or in the wild gentry, who have been educated among the woods or mountains. Whereas many great families are insensibly fallen off from the athletic const.i.tution of their progenitors, and are dwindled away into a pale, sickly, spindle-legged, generation of valetudinarians.
I may perhaps be thought extravagant in my notion; but I must confess, I am apt to impute the dishonours that sometimes happen in great families to the inflaming kind of diet which is so much in fashion. Many dishes can excite desire without giving strength, and heat the body without nourishing it; as physicians observe, that the poorest and most dispirited blood is most subject to fevers. I look upon a French ragout to be as pernicious to the stomach as a gla.s.s of spirits; and when I have seen a young lady swallow all the instigations of high soups, seasoned sauces, and forced meats, I have wondered at the despair or tedious sighing of her lovers.
The rules among these false delicates are to be as contradictory as they can be to nature.
Without expecting the return of hunger, they eat for an appet.i.te, and prepare dishes not to allay, but to excite it.
They admit of nothing at their tables, in its natural form, or without some disguise.
They are to eat everything before it comes in season, and to leave it off as soon as it is good to be eaten.
They are not to approve anything that is agreeable to ordinary palates; and nothing is to gratify their senses, but what would offend those of their inferiors.
I remember I was last summer invited to a friend"s house, who is a great admirer of the French cookery, and (as the phrase is) eats well. At our sitting down, I found the table covered with a great variety of unknown dishes. I was mightily at a loss to learn what they were, and therefore did not know where to help myself. That which stood before me, I took to be a roasted porcupine, however did not care for asking questions; and have since been informed, that it was only a larded turkey. I afterwards pa.s.sed my eye over several hashes, which I do not know the names of to this day; and hearing that they were delicacies, did not think fit to meddle with them.
Among other dainties, I saw something like a pheasant, and therefore desired to be helped to a wing of it; but to my great surprise, my friend told me it was a rabbit, which is a sort of meat I never cared for. At last I discovered, with some joy, a pig at the lower end of the table, and begged a gentleman that was near it to cut me a piece of it.
Upon which the gentleman of the house said, with great civility, "I am sure you will like the pig, for it was whipped to death." I must confess, I heard him with horror, and could not eat of an animal that had died so tragical a death. I was now in great hunger and confusion, when, methought, I smelt the agreeable savour of roast beef, but could not tell from which dish it arose, though I did not question but it lay disguised in one of them. Upon turning my head, I saw a n.o.ble sirloin on the side-table smoking in the most delicious manner. I had recourse to it more than once, and could not see, without some indignation, that substantial English dish banished in so ignominious a manner, to make way for French kickshaws.
The dessert was brought up at last, which in truth was as extraordinary as anything that had come before it. The whole, when ranged in its proper order, looked like a very beautiful winter-piece. There were several pyramids of candied sweetmeats, that hung like icicles, with fruit scattered up and down, and hid in an artificial kind of frost. At the same time there were great quant.i.ties of cream beaten up into a snow, and near them little plates of sugar-plums, disposed like so many heaps of hailstones, with a mult.i.tude of congelations in jellies of various colours. I was indeed so pleased with the several objects which lay before me, that I did not care for displacing any of them, and was half angry with the rest of the company, that for the sake of a piece of lemon-peel, or a sugar-plum, would spoil so pleasing a picture. Indeed, I could not but smile to see several of them cooling their mouths with lumps of ice which they had just before been burning with salts and peppers.
As soon as this show was over I took my leave, that I might finish my dinner at my own house: for as I in every thing love what is simple and natural, so particularly in my food; two plain dishes, with two or three good-natured, cheerful, ingenious friends, would make me more pleased and vain, than all that pomp and luxury can bestow. For it is my maxim, that he keeps the greatest table, who has the most valuable company at it.
[Footnote 163: Butler, speaking of Talgol ("Hudibras," Part I. canto ii.
305), says:
"He many a boar and huge dun-cow Did, like another Guy, o"erthrow, But Guy, with him in fight compared, Had like the boar or dun-cow fared."
[Footnote 164: Samuel Daniel"s "History" was published in 1613.]
No. 149. [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, March 21_, to _Thursday, March 23, 1709-10_.
_From my own Apartment, March 22._
It has often been a solid grief to me, when I have reflected on this glorious nation, which is the scene of public happiness and liberty, that there are still crowds of private tyrants, against whom there neither is any law now in being, nor can there be invented any by the wit of man. These cruel men are ill-natured husbands. The commerce in the conjugal state is so delicate, that it is impossible to prescribe rules for the conduct of it, so as to fit ten thousand nameless pleasures and disquietudes which arise to people in that condition. But it is in this as in some other nice cases, where touching upon the malady tenderly, is half way to the cure; and there are some faults which need only to be observed to be amended. I am put into this way of thinking by a late conversation which I am going to give an account of.
I made a visit the other day to a family for which I have a great honour, and found the father, the mother, and two or three of the younger children, drop off designedly to leave me alone with the eldest daughter, who was but a visitant there as well as myself, and is the wife of a gentleman of a very fair character in the world. As soon as we were alone, I saw her eyes full of tears, and methought she had much to say to me, for which she wanted encouragement. "Madam," said I, "you know I wish you all as well as any friend you have: speak freely what I see you are oppressed with, and you may be sure, if I cannot relieve your distress, you may at least reap so much present advantage, as safely to give yourself the ease of uttering it." She immediately a.s.sumed the most becoming composure of countenance, and spoke as follows: "It is an aggravation of affliction in a married life, that there is a sort of guilt in communicating it: for which reason it is, that a lady of your and my acquaintance, instead of speaking to you herself, desired me the next time I saw you, as you are a professed friend to our s.e.x, to turn your thoughts upon the reciprocal complaisance which is the duty of a married state.
"My friend was neither in fortune, birth nor education, below the gentleman whom she has married. Her person, her age, and her character, are also such as he can make no exception to. But so it is, that from the moment the marriage ceremony was over, the obsequiousness of a lover was turned into the haughtiness of a master. All the kind endeavours which she uses to please him, are at best but so many instances of her duty. This insolence takes away that secret satisfaction, which does not only excite to virtue, but also rewards it. It abates the fire of a free and generous love, and embitters all the pleasures of a social life."
The young lady spoke all this with such an air of resentment, as discovered how nearly she was concerned in the distress.
When I observed she had done speaking, "Madam," said I, "the affliction you mention is the greatest that can happen in human life, and I know but one consolation in it, if that be a consolation, that the calamity is a pretty general one. There is nothing so common as for men to enter into marriage, without so much as expecting to be happy in it. They seem to propose to themselves a few holidays in the beginning of it; after which they are to return at best to the usual course of their life; and for aught they know, to constant misery and uneasiness. From this false sense of the state they are going into, proceeds the immediate coldness and indifference, or hatred and aversion, which attend ordinary marriages, or rather bargains to cohabit." Our conversation was here interrupted by company which came in upon us.
The humour of affecting a superior carriage, generally rises from a false notion of the weakness of a female understanding in general, or an overweening opinion that we have of our own: for when it proceeds from a natural ruggedness and brutality of temper, it is altogether incorrigible, and not to be amended by admonition. Sir Francis Bacon, as I remember, lays it down as a maxim, that no marriage can be happy in which the wife has no opinion of her husband"s wisdom;[165] but without offence to so great an authority, I may venture to say, that a sullen-wise man is as bad as a good-natured fool. Knowledge, softened with complacency and good breeding, will make a man equally beloved and respected; but when joined with a severe, distant and unsociable temper, it creates rather fear than love. I who am a bachelor, have no other notion of conjugal tenderness, but what I learn from books, and shall therefore produce three letters of Pliny,[166] who was not only one of the greatest, but the most learned men in the whole Roman Empire. At the same time I am very much ashamed, that on such occasions I am obliged to have recourse to heathen authors, and shall appeal to my readers, if they would not think it a mark of a narrow education in a man of quality to write such pa.s.sionate letters to any woman but a mistress. They were all three written at a time when she was at a distance from him: the first of them puts me in mind of a married friend of mine, who said, sickness itself is pleasant to a man that is attended in it by one whom he dearly loves.
_Pliny to Calphurnia._
"I never was so much offended at business, as when it hindered me from going with you into the country, or following you thither: for I more particularly wish to be with you at present, that I might be sensible of the progress you make in the recovery of your strength and health; as also of the entertainment and diversions you can meet with in your retirement. Believe me, it is an anxious state of mind to live in ignorance of what happens to those whom we pa.s.sionately love. I am not only in pain for your absence, but also for your indisposition. I am afraid of everything, fancy everything, and, as it is the nature of men in fear, I fancy those things most which I am most afraid of. Let me therefore earnestly desire you to favour me under these my apprehensions with one letter every day, or, if possible, with two; for I shall be a little at ease while I am reading your letters, and grow anxious again as soon as I have read them."
_Second Letter._
"You tell me that you are very much afflicted at my absence, and that you have no satisfaction in anything but my writings, which you often lay by you upon my pillow. You oblige me very much in wishing to see me, and making me your comforter in my absence. In return, I must let you know, I am no less pleased with the letters which you writ to me, and read them over a thousand times with new pleasure. If your letters are capable of giving me so much pleasure, what would your conversation do?